Impressions
by dreamingmarie
Summary: Two missing scenes from episode 2.22 "Not Pictured."


**Disclaimer:** The characters were created by Rob Thomas and remain the property of Thomas, the CW, and Warner Bros. Television. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.  
**Author's Note:** This fic was written for challenge number 5 (DVD Extras) of Round 3 of vmfic_gameone. Many thanks to the lovely love_is_epic for beta-reading.

Deep into the night, Logan awoke, either from the nightmare or because his legs were numb, he wasn't sure. Veronica was still asleep, lying across his lap, and her weight was cutting off the blood supply in his thighs. He must have let her slip out of his arms after he'd fallen asleep. Worried she'd be sore and achy in the morning if he left her like that, he gently lifted her up, careful not to wake her, and sat her down next to him on the couch. Then he worked on making his blood flow again in his legs.

He was not sorry he'd woken up – all he could see when he closed his eyes was Cassidy jumping from the roof of the Neptune Grand. Then it was his mother's turn, until she morphed into a rotten corpse sinking in the ocean, eaten by toothy fish, before turning back into Cassidy. Those horrible images were on a loop in his head, and no happy thought could make them go away.

The entire string of events of that evening had been both confusing and traumatizing, and Logan's feelings were all over the place. Veronica was overwhelmed by grief for her beloved father, but his own response was not nearly as simple or as virtuous. He was sorry about Mr. Mars' death, truly sorry for Veronica's sake, but deep inside him, his most selfish and callous desires were dancing the conga through his brain.

He and Veronica were both alone in the world now. They both had only each other left and grand plans for their life together couldn't help but to form fully-fledged dreams in Logan's mind. He'd move in with her and start working at Mars Investigations. Veronica would show him the ropes, and they would chase cheating spouses and fight crime together. He still had his mother's inheritance, which he would invest in the business, or use to pay college tuition for her. They'd get married and he would take her name. He would never have anything to do with his father ever again.

Logan felt horrible for feeling this way, as if he were spitting on Mr. Mars' grave, but he couldn't help himself. He was glad that no one could see what was going on in his head, or they would be horrified. It made _him_ nauseous and it would certainly be enough for Veronica to never want to speak to him again. He swore to Mr. Mars' no doubt irate ghost (and he would be furious, for more reasons than one – Logan hadn't forgotten what had happened the last time he was on this same couch) that he would forever take good care of his daughter, that he would never be anything but respectful. Logan assured his spirit that he was sad over his demise and that he would bring fresh flowers to his grave every week. Well, maybe the flowers would be too much. Maybe a nice plaque extolling all Mr. Mars' good qualities would be more fitting.

After exercising various muscles in his legs, he was finally able to stand up. Veronica was still fast asleep, looking like a ragged doll with her head hanging and her chin resting on her chest, hair completely undone. Logan opened the door to her room and pulled back the covers of her bed before going back to the couch to pick her up, still careful to avoid any sudden moves. He carried her to her bed, Backup following him and making worried noises.

"Shhh, you're going to wake her up," he whispered to the dog, patting him on the head and shooing him out of the room.

He unlaced Veronica's boots and slid them off before tucking her in. He stared at her face, still blotchy from all the tears she'd shed before falling asleep in his arms. She apparently hadn't even noticed that her cheeks were black from the mascara that had run while she was crying and her nose was red from all the times she'd blown it.

Logan looked around him and he suddenly realised that he'd never been in her room before. During their summer together, they'd spent a lot of time in _his_ room, at his now destroyed home, but here he'd never proceeded beyond the living room. At the time he'd chalked it up to her trying to avoid the messy subject of sex until she was ready and he hadn't pressed the matter or pushed any boundaries. He wasn't sure if the door to her room was one of these boundaries, but in the end the result was the same: he'd never set foot in here. Now, with just the light from a streetlamp coming through the window, he indulged in his curiosity.

The room held only the basics and wasn't a large room by any standards. The bed was in an alcove, and a desk with a chair and bookcases behind them were taking up most of the space. It was snug, decorated with a few posters and some framed pictures of Lilly that Logan could no longer look at without thinking about her together with his father. He tore his eyes away from that round face with the sweet expression he'd worshipped for so long (what was she really thinking about when that picture got taken?) and looked at the giant pin board covering the wall in front of Veronica's desk.

There Lilly was again, laughing in a picture of the four of them taken before their limo party at Homecoming, during their freshman year. It was one of the few personal pictures tacked in the lower right corner: Veronica and her dad, Veronica and Lilly, Veronica and Wallace, Veronica and Duncan… He wished there was one of Veronica and him. The rest of the board was covered with printouts of pictures of various furtive couples or people doing suspicious things, annotated with post-its of license plates, phone numbers or addresses.

Smack in the middle, he recognized himself, undoing the first button of his shirt, Kendall's reflection in a mirror behind him doing the same thing. He was briefly overcome with a blaze of anger and shame – anger that Veronica was still holding this against him, and shame at the memory itself. Then he remembered the devastated look on Veronica's face the morning after Alterna-Prom, how her eyes had screamed "how could you?" and he could see she had a point. He swore to himself, then and there, that Veronica would never have to mistrust him again. That she would never have any reason to doubt his love, his support, or his morality. Logan Echolls was turning over a new leaf.

He took the picture off the board, crumpled it, and threw it in her waste paper basket. As he did, he saw a glimpse of himself in Veronica's mirror. He got closer to examine his face and saw that he looked exhausted. The bags under his eyes made him appear about ten years older. Then he noticed, tucked in the frame, a small piece of paper with something written on it. It was a fortune from inside a cookie which read, "true love stories never have endings." Logan stood there for a moment, staring at the sentence, blinking and sniffing to keep himself from crying. He thought he knew Veronica pretty well, but he'd never suspected her of being such a romantic. Was this fortune about them?

Finally, feeling like the carnival in his head had calmed down a bit, he tore himself from her room and closed the door softly behind him. A glance at his watch told him it was almost two-thirty, and tomorrow he would probably be very busy supporting Veronica and shielding her as much as possible from the attention of the Sheriff's department. The deputy dispatched after Cassidy's death might have been merciful with them but as soon as Lamb was able to focus on the events at the Neptune Grand (something which would happen very soon, since Goodman was now dead), he'd want to haul them both in to stick knives in fresh wounds.

Therefore, Logan needed to get some sleep _without_ any nightmares. He took a look into Mr. Mars's liquor cabinet, but didn't really feel like drinking. He raided the medicine cabinet instead, examining it in wonder. No vicodin? No Ambien? Did the Mars family never have trouble sleeping? The best he could find was the remainder of a bottle of cough syrup that he downed in one gulp. He then curled up on the couch again, trying to find a comfortable position and concentrating on counting sheep.

***

It was past four o'clock in the morning when Keith finally got home. He was going to kill Lamb for this little trick. All he had asked for was a place on that airplane so that he wouldn't have to rent a car and drive for nine hours before he got home. But, no, the Sheriff couldn't take the risk that a reporter would happen to see Keith and ask him a question. The fact that Keith had no desire to say anything on the subject of Woody Goodman except "no comment" (well, to be honest, there were a great deal of things Keith wanted to say about him, but none of them were printable, so it came down to the same thing) didn't seem to cross his mind. Talk about projection.

He yawned as he fished for his keys and opened the door as quietly as possible. Backup greeted him and Keith scratched his ears gratefully.

"Shhh, let's not wake up Veronica, shall we?" he whispered.

But there were light snores coming from the couch and when he looked around to see who they belonged to he let out a long, defeated sigh.

"Well, look what the cat brought in!" he told Backup as he stood in front of the couch to take in the boy, laying supine, sprawled out in an undignified way, arms sticking out left and right and his mouth wide open.

Keith should have expected it, really. He'd always known that as pretty as Veronica was, he'd have to beat the boys away from her with a stick. But there was just no discouraging this one; he just kept coming back. At least Logan was fully dressed and on the couch as opposed to naked and in Veronica's bed, which was a small mercy. He decided he'd deal with it in the morning. Right now he was too tired and he didn't have the heart to yell at anyone, let alone a teenager who was sleeping so peacefully and looking so young and innocent.

The worst part was that Keith had no doubt that Logan actually was as young and innocent as he looked in his sleep. Keith felt sorry for the poor kid, who had gone through so much hurt. Now Logan was going to have deal with his newly freed father who he knew beyond a doubt to have slept with and killed a beloved girlfriend, and that would probably be even more difficult.

But Logan's ordeals had also made him explosive and stupid and therefore completely unsuitable for Veronica. Keith's blood still ran cold when he remembered the gang war Logan had embroiled himself in, and how it had resulted in a shotgun blast through his car that had almost killed him and Veronica. Keith had hoped it would make the kid see sense, but no. It had only made him more violent and in the end he had to be thrown out of the apartment. Keith was all about guiding troubled youths and helping them through tough times, but Logan had been out of reach and was jeopardizing Veronica's safety. That was where Keith drew the line.

Maybe, in a few years, after Logan had calmed down a bit, it wouldn't be such a bad idea for Veronica to date him. But he'd have to clean up a great deal first. Keith hadn't forgotten about Veronica's mystery STD that had come up in Aaron Echolls' trial, and he was sure as hell that she hadn't gotten it from Duncan. Logan badly needed to understand that when you entered a relationship with someone you had to be considerate, not neglect or hurt them.

He'd sit the kid down over pancakes and tell him all of that in the morning. Keith wasn't sure that Logan would actually listen to him, but he seemed in dire need of some adult guidance. Logan wouldn't get it from his own father; that was certain. Keith still couldn't wrap his mind around what could compel a man to sleep with his son's girlfriend (or his friend's daughter), let alone kill her. He'd been downright shocked when he'd learned that Lynn – who he had always liked – had sold all her husband's indiscretions to the tabloids, and even more so when she'd jumped off a bridge without a thought about the damage she was inflicting her child.

Keith was painfully aware that he himself was no model parent, and that he had inflicted damage on Veronica, no matter how much she protested otherwise. But at least he admitted it and he felt guilty about it. But Aaron and Lynn Echolls had clearly never considered Logan in anything they did, and Aaron certainly showed no remorse. It saddened and angered Keith that Logan, who had been such a bright and good-humoured kid, had been neglected so much and had fallen so low that it wasn't sure there was any getting up from it.

He opened a cupboard and took out a blanket to cover the boy up. He mumbled in his sleep and Keith looked at him for a moment before going to check on Veronica. She was asleep as well, safely tucked under the covers. Keith frowned a bit when he saw that she hadn't changed into her night clothes. What had happened last night?

Keith gently closed the door behind him and went to brush his teeth as quietly as possible, thankful that he could finally get the taste of the horrible cheeseburger he'd gotten on the road out of his mouth. He vaguely wondered why the medicine cabinet was open and in disarray and the empty bottle of cough syrup standing next to the sink confused him a little, but he threw it away without bothering to be annoyed at Veronica's uncharacteristic untidiness. After checking that Backup had enough water left in his bowl, he gave him one last pat on the head to wish him goodnight.

Then he went to his room, his only refuge for when his life, his responsibilities and his worries became too much, put on his pyjamas and crawled under the covers with a deep sigh. Having a long talk with an unstable teenager about staying away from his daughter – especially when he could see that his daughter was still, after one year and another relationship, sad over the break up – was not something he looked forward to.


End file.
